A World Without Batman II
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: Jervis Tetch has perfected his machine for creating alternate realities of the mind, and traps Batman in a world where he has never existed. Batman experiences the lives of his greatest enemies without him, and has to question whether their existences are all his fault.
1. Chapter 1

**A World Without Batman II**

"Eureka!" exclaimed Jervis Tetch, entering the Rec Room at Arkham Asylum and proudly holding up a top hat. "I've done it, everyone! I've perfected my alternate reality simulator!"

He looked around, beaming, clearly expecting some sort of applause or acclaim. His face gradually fell as everyone in the room ignored him. "If Jonathan were here, he'd be pleased," he muttered, taking a seat in the corner sulkily.

"Hey, did anyone just hear someone talking?" asked the Joker, looking around. "Nope, me neither," he chuckled, turning his attention back to the TV.

"Hilarious, Joker, as usual," snapped Tetch sarcastically. "It's your fault it's taken me as long as it has to complete this prototype," he said, nodding at the hat. "You smashed my last one."

"How dare you, Hatty?" asked Joker, in mock offense, grinning. "That doesn't sound at all like something I'd do! I've never been so insulted!"

"You must remember – we visited an alternate reality and experienced Gotham without you in it," retorted Tetch. "Two-Face was Batman's main antagonist? Harley was head doctor here at Arkham?"

"What?" said Harley. "You never told me about this, Mr. J!"

"Wait, if J's not here, I'm the Bat's number one nemesis?" asked Two-Face, looking up from his book.

"That's right, yes," replied Tetch.

"Dammit," muttered Two-Face. "Means I can't kill the bastard clown after all. I wouldn't be comfortable being number one – I'm always number two."

"And you always will be, Harv!" chuckled Joker.

"Mr. J, tell me about the reality!" whined Harley, tugging at his arm. "Was I really head doctor?"

"I dunno, kid, I don't remember," he retorted. "I have a hard time remembering a lotta stuff, you know that."

"Because you're senile," muttered Two-Face.

"Because he's suffered a horrible accident, you insensitive jerk!" snapped Harley, cuddling Joker tenderly.

"So did I, but I can at least remember who I was before my accident!" snapped Two-Face.

"Yeah, and I bet if I had my ugly mug plastered on posters all over town, I would be able to remember my name too!" laughed Joker.

"I don't understand how you can't remember this – it was only last month!" snapped Tetch. "In the alternate reality, Batman dragged us into Arkham and you had to prove to Harley that you knew her so that she would help us escape! You defeated Batman! How could you forget that? I thought you would at least take some form of lesson away from the experience, like being grateful for the things you have in this reality!"

"Then you obviously ain't as smart as you think you are," retorted Joker. "I don't learn lessons. That would imply that I'm not perfect. And I clearly am perfect."

"You sure are, puddin'," sighed Harley adoringly, kissing him. "I wouldn't wanna exist in a reality without puddin', even if I was head doctor. Must have been a pretty bleak place."

"Yes, well, be that as it may, my next endeavor will be a far more pleasant scenario," said Tetch, smiling. "I am going to trap Batman forever in a reality in which he does not exist. I'll finally be able to get revenge on him for ruining my life."

"How the hell did he ruin _your _life?" demanded Joker. "I'm the one he threw into a vat of crazy chemicals that drove me stark raving mad! Though I suppose I should thank him for that, really – it has made life a whole lotta fun! Can you imagine how I would have ended up if that hadn't happened? Probably some two-bit gangster running some crummy extortion ring or something. I imagine I'd still be a criminal. I don't know what else I would have done with my life, but I can guarantee it wouldn't be full of the fun and frolics it is today - night after night of jokes, games, and Bat-baiting! Ah, it's a charmed life, Harley girl!" he chuckled, cuddling her.

"Perhaps he has done more damage to others, but it's the principle of the thing," retorted Tetch. "And it is the best kind of revenge – slow, painful, and agonizing, to entrap the mind forever in unreality, with no way to escape."

Joker looked at him. "Sounds like a real nice, tidy scheme, Hatty, but I can gurantee Bats'll find a way outta it. He just does. You always think you've got him trapped or cornered or beat, with no way out, but he always finds a way out. Always."

"And how does he do that?" asked Tetch.

"Well, usually by using that gadget belt thing he has," said Joker. "You'd think someday one of us would try to destroy it or something."

"I did – he's got it booby-trapped," muttered Two-Face. "Electrocuted three of my guys. I had to electrocute another just to make it an even number."

"But in the broader sense, he uses his mind to overcome the situation," said Tetch. "And if I control his mind, I ensure that he cannot use it to escape. It's incredibly complex technology, but actual very simple methodology, when you think about it."

"Yep, you're right, you ain't such a genius after all, Tetchy," said Joker, nodding.

"That's not what I said…"

"Nobody cares what you said. I said Batsy's gonna foil your plans, and he is, you mark my words. Or if he don't, I will. Life would be so boring without Bats in it. And I hate being bored, which I am right now, talking about your stupid scheme. C'mon, Harley, let's see how long you can keep from screaming while I'm beating you. We got to eight minutes yesterday, didn't we, pooh?"

"Yep, Mr. J!" said Harley, proudly. "I'm getting better! Maybe I can make ten today!"

"That's my girl!" he exclaimed, kissing her. "C'mon, slugger."

She skipped out of the room after him as Two-Face and Tetch stared after them. "She could never have been head doctor, even if J didn't exist," snapped Two-Face. "She's just plain nuts."

"Ah, but is madness a trait in one's nature, or is it the result of external circumstances?" asked Tetch. "The question has never been satisfactorily answered, at least to my mind, although the study of nature vs. nurture has long been a prevalent one in the history of…"

"Yeah, that sounds real interesting, Jervis," interrupted Two-Face, seizing the TV remote and turning up the volume.

Tetch glared at him. "Philistine," he muttered, picking up his hat and leaving the room. "I wish Jonathan were here. I feel like Alice trapped in some nightmarish Wonderland of ignorant buffoons. Although fortunately," he said, looking at the hat and smiling. "That's soon to be Batman."


	2. Chapter 2

"Master Bruce, I cannot understand why you insist upon subjecting yourself to this kind of torture," said Alfred, arms folded across his chest. "As if you don't suffer enough pain fighting criminals every night, you have to go and do this to yourself during the day. I simply cannot understand it."

"Alfred, fighting crime and watching daytime television are in no way similar," retorted Bruce, as he sat in front of the TV. He turned to give Alfred a small smile. "Besides, this is relevent."

He was watching a typical, controversial, offensive-just-for-the-sake-of-it style talkshow, where the presenter's mantra of the day seemed to be a verbal war against Batman. "Now a lotta you are going to say I'm crazy, but I just think it's a question we need to ask ourselves every once in a while: does Batman do more harm than good?"

The audience started booing him. "No, no, no, wait, hear me out!" he said, raising his hand. "Yeah, he's a hero. He goes around saving people and stuff, but just think for a moment about this city. Now think about other cities, regular, normal cities who don't have superheroes. Compare crime in Gotham to crime in, say, L.A. Now granted, there is crime in L.A., and every big city is gonna have a crime problem. But does L.A. have costumed supercriminals like the Joker? Does it have incredibly extravagant acts of terrorism perpetrated by the likes of Two-Face and Poison Ivy? No. Then why does Gotham, I can see you asking yourselves. Because Gotham has a superhero. These types of extreme personalities, the Joker and people like him, feel that Batman is personally challenging them to outdo him. The more people he saves, the more they feel they have to kill, to prove they're better than him. Now, L.A. has crime. New York has crime. Chicago has crime. But do any of them have people whose entire existence is based on killing more people than one man can save? Do any of them have people whose entire lives and personas revolve around killing a man in a costume? No. The question we have to ask ourselves, Gotham, the serious question we have to ask ourselves, is whether it's worth it. Whether the comparatively few people he manages to save make up for the thousands that have died at the hands of the supercriminals trying to best him. Now I don't know the answer. I don't know that if Batman didn't suddenly just disappear, whether or not the Joker and his kind would stop. Whether they'd get bored and give up, or just continue their reign of terror unchecked. But I do know we've all heard that Batman created the Joker. So the next time we see the bodies of hundreds of people grinning horribly in death, we know who to thank. I'm Jerry de Winter, and we'll be back in five. Don't go away."

Alfred snorted. "What utter drivel."

"It's hardly unusual for me to be criticized, Alfred. I can take it," replied Bruce.

"Yes, but personally, I don't want to be subjected to such nonsense!" snapped Alfred. "More harm than good, preposterous! Tell that to the hundreds of people you save every night! Besides, one day you might start to believe it yourself."

"Not with such a vocal supporter constantly drowing out their objections," said Bruce, smiling. "Anyway, you should always consider all sides of an argument, no matter how ridiculous it might appear on the surface. Only a fool is certain of everything."

"Hardly. I don't consider myself a fool, Master Bruce, and I am quite certain of everything I need to be certain of," retorted Alfred, returning to his dusting.

"Perhaps you're the exception to the rule, Alfred," said Bruce, smiling. He glanced at his watch. "I need to get going, actually," he said, standing up. "I've heard rumors that something big is going down at the mall. I need to be on hand in case of an emergency."

"Or you could just take the night off, and let them see what Gotham without Batman would be like," retorted Alfred. "Say you were inspired by Mr. de Winter's show."

"I'm not going to let innocent people suffer to prove a point," replied Bruce.

"Then you're a better man than I, sir," said Alfred.

"I don't imagine such a man exists, Alfred," replied Bruce, patting him affectionately on the shoulder as he passed. But when he was alone in the Batcave and began changing into his costume, he couldn't deny that the things Mr. de Winter had said had affected him more than they probably should have. It was clearly just a gimmick to boost ratings, a deliberately controversial topic to get people talking and watching his show, but all the same…some of the things he had said hit a bit close to home, and made more sense than they should have. Bruce considered himself a resolute man, but nobody could prevent self-doubt occasionally. Well, maybe Alfred could, he thought with a smile.

He climbed into the Batmobile and drove off, heading toward the mall. The rumors he had heard were incredibly vague – he didn't really know what to expect, if anything. But it was better to be safe than sorry.

The mall was shut down and locked tight when he arrived – it was being refurbished and was closed to the public, but that didn't mean some criminal or other couldn't be plotting a break-in. In fact, it was more likely now that security was more lax, Batman thought, as he climbed through the window and crept through the empty rafters, watching for any sign of movement. There didn't appear to be anything out of the ordinary. Except…

All of the stores had shutters over their entrances, and their lights were all off. Except for one store, which was aglow with light, and whose door was thrown wide open. A hat shop.

Batman approached it warily. He slipped through the door and looked around the shop. It was empty of people, but there were hats everywhere. All kinds of hats, of every color and variation. Batman didn't need to be the World's Greatest Detective to figure out who could be behind this. But where was the Mad Hatter?

He suddenly sensed a movement behind him. He whirled around and briefly saw Jervis Tetch, grinning in triumph, but then something was placed on his head and he instantly blacked out. The last words he heard were, "Goodbye, Batman."

He opened his eyes to more darkness. But he was outside now, it was night, and it was raining. He could feel the drops pelting his clothes and his…face. Which he realized was uncovered. He looked down to see that he was wearing a normal suit, not his Batman costume at all. He was lying on the ground and struggled to his feet, looking around slowly. He knew this place. It was Crime Alley.

"You ok, buddy?" asked a voice.

He turned to see a man in a trenchcoat and fedora looking at him. It was too dark to make out the man's face, but he held a cigarette between his lips and was poised to light it. He had obviously just ducked into the alley to do so, out of the wind and rain, and that was when he noticed the man lying facedown on the ground.

"Yeah…I think so," stammered Batman, feeling his head. "I…um…"

"You been mugged or something?" asked the man, approaching him.

"No…I don't…I don't know. I don't remember…" murmured Batman.

The man eyed him up and down, noticing his suit. Batman still couldn't make out his face. "You ain't from around here, are ya?" he asked. "Crime Alley ain't no place for the rich and famous. Bad things tend to happen to people here, Mr. Wayne."

Batman started. "You…know who I am?" he asked.

The man chuckled, and there was something vaguely familiar about it. "Yeah, course I do! I read the newspapers! You're Bruce Wayne, heir to Wayne Enterprises, son of Thomas and Martha Wayne, Gotham's favorite citizens. My wife thinks you've got something going on with Selina Kyle. You wanna confirm or deny that for her? I won't tell the papers or anything, but it'd be nice to end the speculation so she'd stop jabbering about it to me."

"I'm…sorry, I'm very confused," said Batman, slowly. "I must have hit my head or something…"

"More likely been hit on the head by someone," replied the man. "But you don't look much worse for wear, so maybe they just took your wallet and ran. I guess even petty criminals know not to mess with Bruce Wayne, or your dad will have the whole weight of the law on 'em."

"My…dad?" stammered Batman. "My father's…alive?"

"Um…yeah," replied the man, slowly. "Last I heard anyway. I think it would have been all over the news if Thomas Wayne had died."

Batman felt the man's eyes studying him closely. "You gonna be ok?" he asked, quietly. "You got a phone you can call someone with to come get ya, or did they take that too?"

"Um…" Batman began feeling his pockets. They were empty. "No…I…er…don't appear to have…anything…"

"Well, I live just around the block if you wanna use my phone," he said. "And I know my wife would kill me if I told her I met Bruce Wayne and didn't bring him home to meet her. Besides, you don't wanna wait out here in the rain – you'll catch your death of cold. And I'd feel somewhat responsible. I wouldn't want the death of Bruce Wayne on my conscience, not for anything in the world."

"Oh…thanks…that'd be…um…" stammered Batman, still trying to figure out what on earth was going on. "Yes, thank you."

The man nodded. "You smoke?" he asked, reaching into his jacket for his cigarette case.

"Um…no," replied Batman.

"I don't blame you – filthy habit," said the man, replacing the case. "But a guy's gotta have some vices. What's the point of life if you ain't gonna have a little fun, am I right? Of course I am – look who I'm talking to!" he laughed. Batman swore he knew that laugh.

"You have me at a disadvantage," he said. "You know who I am, but I don't know your name."

"Oh, didn't I say?" said the man. "I'm sorry, where are my manners? Finally meet someone rich and famous and instead of making a good impression, I end up acting like a total slob. That ain't funny. That ain't funny at all."

He struck a match to light his cigarette, and Batman suddenly reeled back in horror as he recognized the face illuminated by the flame. It wasn't white, it wasn't smiling, but it was unmistakably the face of the Joker.


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh…my…God!" gasped Batman. "It's…you!"

The man looked at him strangely. "Um…yeah…hi, Jack Napier," he said, extending his hand. Batman found himself looking for the joy buzzer attached to his hand, but there wasn't anything. Jack was looking at him oddly. "We haven't…met before, have we?" he asked, slowly. "I think I would have remembered."

"Er…no," stammered Batman. "No…you just…remind me of someone. An old…friend."

"Guess I got one of those faces!" chuckled Jack. Batman suddenly recognized the Joker's laugh – not as crazy or hysterical, but very obviously the Joker's laugh. "Geez, I gotta say, it feels kinda nice to be recognized, even if it ain't me you really recognize – you must get this feeling all the time, huh, Mr. Wayne? Ain't no secret who you are."

"No…" said Batman, slowly. He didn't have the slightest idea what was going on, or what was happening to him. He assumed it was some sort of dream, or mind control, instigated by the Mad Hatter. He would just have to play along as best he could until he found a way to get out of it.

He shook his head firmly in resolution. "I'm sorry for staring, Mr. Napier. It's just…uncanny."

"Hey, call me Jack," said Jack, grinning the Joker's grin. "Or J, if you prefer. Lotta people call me J." He clapped him on the back. "Right this way, Mr. Wayne."

"Oh, please…it's Bruce," said Batman slowly. It felt incredibly wrong giving his greatest enemy his real name, but this wasn't really his greatest enemy. He wasn't even sure he really was Bruce here.

Jack beamed at him. "Wait till Harley gets a loada this!" he chuckled to himself as he led him out of the alley and down the street. This second shock stunned Batman again, but he resolved to try to conceal his surprise as best he could. He was used to concealing things, after all.

"Honey, I'm home!" called Jack, throwing open the door to a small but cozy house in a row of brownstone buildings.

"Puddin'!" shrieked a familiar voice. "You're back, you're back, you're back!"

A second later, Harley Quinn rushed into the hall, but she didn't look like her usual self at all. She was wearing a red dress with a white apron, her blonde hair put up in a bun, the spitting image of a perfect fifties housewife.

She leaped into Jack's arms and kissed him passionately. At least some things hadn't changed, Batman thought. Truth to tell, it relieved him slightly. There was something familiar in this reality anyway.

"I missed you so much, puddin'!" she cooed, covering him with kisses.

"Take it easy, baby, we got company!" he chuckled. "And just wait until you see who it is!"

He stepped aside to reveal Batman. Harley stared at him with her mouth hanging open, and then suddenly clapped her hands to her mouth. "Oh my God!" she shrieked, jumping up and down in excitement. "It's Bruce Wayne! Oh God, Bruce Wayne! Bruce Wayne, in our house! Bruce Wayne! Bruce Wayne!"

She lost her ability to speak after that, and squealed excitedly instead, clutching Jack tightly. "All right, breathe, kiddo," he said, patting her affectionately on the head. "Bruce, this is my wife, Harley. Harley, no introductions are necessary, I assume?"

"It's…an honor…I mean, pleased to meetcha…I mean, welcome to our home, Mr. Wayne!" stammered Harley, alternating between curtseying, bowing, and holding out her hand. In the end, she just clasped Jack tightly again, gazing at Bruce in a mixture of adoration and astonishment. "Puddin', how did you…why is he…what's he doing here?" she gasped.

Jack chuckled. "We're old pals, Harley, ain't we, Bruce?" he said, grinning at him.

"Yes, that's right," replied Batman.

Jack laughed again. "Knew you were the kinda guy to appreciate a joke, Bruce!" he chuckled. "You got a sense of humor, I can see that! I'm just kidding, pooh bear, I just met Bruce tonight," he said, beaming at Harley. "Found him lying in Crime Alley. He's been mugged."

"Aw, Jesus, that's awful, Mr. Wayne!" exclaimed Harley. "Well, don't you worry, I'm sure they'll be able to catch the slime who did it! God, why have jerks gotta go around hurting people, Mr. J?" she sighed.

"Cause it's a cruel and crazy world, baby," he replied. "I'm lucky I got you to keep me sane," he murmured, kissing her.

She sighed in adoration and kissed him again. "You got dinner ready, toots?" asked Jack. "Is there enough for Bruce?"

"Oughta be, though I ain't sure I wanna expose him to my cooking," said Harley. "I know it'll be terrible to a man who's used to having filet mignon and caviar…"

"Aw, don't sell yourself short, baby, you're a great little cook!" said Jack sincerely. "She is, Bruce, just the perfect little homemaker in every way. I'm a lucky guy."

Harley squeaked happily and kissed him again. "Well, come to the table," she said, taking Jack's hand and leading them down the hall and into a small but tastefully furnished dining room. "Can I get you anything, Mr. Wayne? Drink, maybe?" she asked, gesturing him into a chair.

"No, thank you, Mrs. Napier," he replied.

"Aw, call me Harley, everyone does!" exclaimed Harley, beaming.

"All right, Harley," said Batman.

Harley shrieked in delight, clapping her hands. "He called me Harley, Mr. J!" she exclaimed, seizing Jack again.

"Yeah, you just asked him to, you dumb blonde," said Jack, smiling affectionately at her. "Now get back into the kitchen, you useless waste of space."

Normally when Batman had heard the Joker say anything like that, it was clearly genuinely insulting. The way he said it now, joking and playful, as he spanked her fondly, surprised him to say the least. Harley kissed him again and then disappeared back into the kitchen.

"Sorry if she scared you," said Jack, apologetically. "She's very…excitable. Can be a little full-on sometimes."

"No, it'll take a lot more than over-excitement to scare me," replied Bruce.

Jack laughed. "Yeah, you must be used to scores of adoring women shrieking and throwing themselves at you!" he chuckled. "Ah, the life of a celebrity! Not for me, I don't think. I'm the kinda guy who appreciates his peace and quiet and privacy. Couldn't stand having my picture all over the paper."

"Yeah, it can get pretty tiresome," agreed Batman. "Some days I just wish nobody knew who I was."

"Maybe you should wear a mask or something!" chuckled Jack.

Batman stared at him. "Maybe," he agreed, slowly.

"Grub's up!" exclaimed Harley, emerging from the kitchen with plates of casserole. "Oh…sorry…I mean, dinner is served, Mr. Wayne," she said, bowing as she put the plate in front of him.

"Bruce, please," said Batman.

Harley shrieked in excitement again, clapping her hands. "He said I could call him Bruce, Mr. J!" she cried, beaming at Jack.

"Yeah, I heard, kiddo," he retorted, chuckling. "Sit down, you little minx, and eat before it gets cold."

She kissed him again and obeyed. There was silence for a little while as they ate. "This is delicious, Harley," said Batman, sincerely.

Harley squealed again. "He likes my cooking, Mr. J!" she shrieked. "Oh…that is…thank you, Bruce," she stammered. She gazed at him, beaming, and then turned to Jack. "Wait until I tell Red! Bruce Wayne, in my house, at my table, eating my food!"

"Who's Red?" asked Batman, recognizing Harley's name for Poison Ivy.

"Oh, it's just a nickname for a friend of mine," replied Harley, waving her hand. "Her real name's Pamela Isley, but she's got red hair, so I call her Red."

"And is she a homemaker too?" asked Batman, privately thinking that if she was, this reality was just him losing his mind.

Jack and Harley both laughed. "Nah, Red would never wanna be anything like that!" giggled Harley. "She's a real feminist, female empowerment type. She's a doctor, a botanical biochemist, technically."

"And how do you know her?" asked Batman.

"Well, I used to be a doctor too," said Harley. "Not the same kinda doctor – I was a psychiatrist. Red came to me as a patient."

"Oh? Anything wrong with her?" asked Batman. "I don't mean to pry – I'm just…interested in mental disorders."

Harley shrugged. "Red won't mind. But no, there wasn't anything wrong with her, really – she had become a bit obsessed with her work on these plants, and started caring more about them than other people. But it turned out all she needed was a friend, and she found one in me. Ever since then, she's been perfectly happy with her work and her life."

"I see," said Batman. "And…how did you two meet, if you don't mind my asking?" he asked, gesturing to Jack.

Harley beamed at him. "Same way, really. Mr. J was a patient of mine."

"But we didn't start a relationship until I was cured – I ain't the kinda guy to take advantage of a gal like that," said Jack firmly. "And Harley was never anything but professional with me."

"I won't ask what you consulted her for, that would be horribly rude…" said Batman, secretly hoping that that would be enough prompting for them to tell him.

It was. "Nah, it ain't no secret, and I ain't ashamed of my past," said Jack, waving his hand. "Truth is, Bruce, I didn't used to be the most…morally upright of people."

"Mr. J used to be a criminal," said Harley. "Never did anything too bad – just petty robberies, holding up banks, jewelry stores, that kinda thing."

"I got arrested after a raid on this place called Ace Chemicals," continued Jack. "During my time in prison, they made me see a psychiatrist, someone they sent over from the nuthouse. This little doll here," he said, beaming at her. "The moment I saw her, it was like my whole life changed. I fell madly in love with her, a madness I hope never gets cured," he murmured, kissing her tenderly.

"Puddin' resolved to be a better man, a man he thought was worthy of me," murmured Harley, smiling lovingly at him. "He got outta prison early for good behavior, looked me up, and sent me flowers. And we've never looked back."

"You don't…practice psychiatry anymore?" asked Batman slowly.

"Nah, gave up my career for love," she replied. "Ain't never regretted it. Puddin' makes enough money for us to live on – it ain't a glamorous lifestyle, but we like it. Plus I don't wanna be working when…" she paused, blushing.

Jack lay a hand on her belly. "We're trying for a baby," he said, smiling at her.

"Oh…God…" stammered Batman. It was difficult for him to separate Jack and Harley from Joker and Harley – they were incredibly similar in many ways. And there was nothing more horrific than the thought of Joker and Harley having a baby. "Wow…that's…great news," he finished, hoping his smile didn't look too forced. "I hope that works out for you."

He cleared his throat. "This is gonna seem kinda weird, but if I said some names to you, could you tell me if they ring a bell at all?"

Jack shrugged. "Sure, Bruce. Shoot."

"Ok. Harvey Dent."

Jack laughed. "You nuts? Course Harvey Dent rings a bell – he's the DA!"

"Oh…right…he hasn't suffered any kinda…accident then?"

Jack looked at him. "Erm…no, not that I've heard. Should he have?"

"Maybe something to do with acid? And Sal Maroni?"

"Sal Maroni?" repeated Jack. "What, the gang leader? Why would he wanna hurt Harvey Dent? Dent's real good at keeping both sides of the law happy – both the right and the wrong side. He's a fair guy – nothing's more important to him than balance, and he always sees both sides of an argument. That's why he's the best DA this city has ever had. He doesn't have a personal vendetta against any of the gang leaders, he don't have any highfalutin ideals about justice and right. He doesn't seek to prosecute – he seeks to keep the peace. An appeaser, I guess, but a successful one. Mob killings have certainly diminished since he's been in power."

"What about the name Jonathan Crane? Does that mean anything to you?" asked Batman.

"Jonathan Crane," repeated Harley, thoughtfully. "Professor Jonathan Crane?"

"That's the one," said Batman, nodding.

"He teaches at Gotham University," she replied. "I went to a lecture of his on the nature of fear and its effects the human mind. He's got a really great mind himself, actually, but a slightly disturbed one. He came to see me because he had some anger issues resulting from being bullied as a child. We had several sessions over the years, and the last time I saw him, he seemed to have come to some sort of acceptance. I think he was seeing a woman or something – nothing heals all wounds like love," she said, beaming at Jack.

"Does the name Jervis Tetch ring a bell at all?"

They both looked at him blankly. "No, I can't say that it does," said Jack. "Who is he?"

"He is…was…maybe still is…an employee of…my father's," said Bruce, slowly. "I may have to look him up."

If Tetch had done this to him, Tetch would know how to undo it. He resolved to hunt him down, however it took, once he left. "Just one more name, if you don't mind…"

"No, carry on, Bruce, it's a fun game!" chuckled Jack.

"The name…is Batman."

They both stared at him. "Batman?" repeated Jack.

"Yes."

"Like a man…who's a bat?"

"A man who dresses as a bat," replied Batman, nodding. "Maybe fights crime?"

Jack just looked at him. "You sure you're feeling all right, Bruce? Maybe we oughta take you to the hospital – you might have got a concussion…"

"Look, just tell me if you've ever heard about a man in a bat costume who goes around fighting crime," said Batman, with a slight edge to his voice.

"Erm…no…can't say that I have," said Jack. "Harley?"

She shook her head. "Did you dream about that or something, Bruce?" she asked.

"Maybe," murmured Batman. "Maybe…it is all a dream."

Jack suddenly laughed. "I gotta admit, Bruce, that may be the funniest thing I ever heard! Guy in a bat costume who goes around fighting crime!" He laughed hysterically. "I mean, he'd have to be nuts, right?"

"Yeah," agreed Batman, slowly. "Yeah, maybe he is."


	4. Chapter 4

After dinner, they went into the living room, small, comfortably furnished, and without a clown in sight, which unnerved Batman slightly. But then so did everything about this experience. It was unnerving to watch Harley pour a glass of scotch and bring it over to the Joker, and yet not the Joker, and watch as the Joker, and yet not the Joker, took it from her and then murmured, "C'mere, kid," pulling Harley down onto his lap and kissing her passionately.

"Puddin'…we got a guest to see to," she whispered, reluctantly drawing away from him.

"Sorry, sweets, just seeing you drives me crazy," he murmured, grinning at her.

She beamed, kissed him again, and then turned to Batman. "Would you like a drink, Bruce?"

"Yeah…might help," said Batman slowly. It couldn't hurt the state of his mind anyway. She brought a glass over to him. "Thanks," he said, still looking around the room. His eyes fell upon a picture. "This your wedding photo?" he asked, picking it up.

"Yeah, and that's Red there," said Harley, pointing to the figure standing next to her. "She was my maid of honor."

Batman tried not to laugh as he imagined Poison Ivy as he knew her ever agreeing to be Harley's maid of honor at her wedding to the Joker. But those weren't the people in the photo. They were all smiling, but that was the only resemblance he could see. Jack's smile wasn't the Joker's smile – it wasn't terrifying or mocking, it was just blissfully happy as he embraced Harley, looking perfectly normal and beautiful in a lovely white dress, gazing at him with the same blissful adoration. Batman recognized Pamela Isley – she was dressed in green, but that was the only similarity she shared with Poison Ivy. She looked geniunely happy for the two of them, and Poison Ivy would never be happy for them.

"She's single," continued Harley. "If you are too…y'know. I can give you her number. Though I always thought you and Selina Kyle were kinda an item…"

"Told ya, Bruce!" chuckled Jack. "You gotta forgive the kid – she just devours those trashy celebrity gossip magazines."

"Well, I've always had an attraction for extreme personalities, puddin'," retorted Harley, smiling at him. "And celebrities are pretty extreme personalities."

"Oooh, should I be jealous of Bruce?" asked Jack, playfully.

"Aw, puddin', you're such a kidder!" sighed Harley, adoringly, curling up in his lap and kissing him again.

"You two seem…very happy," stammered Batman. They really did. And for the first time in his life, he began to really regret what had happened to the Joker. Not just for the sake of the people of Gotham, but for his own sake. Jack Napier seemed like a genuinely nice and good man, a man who had made mistakes, granted, but who had learned from them. A man who had redeemed himself. He was everything Batman fought for, and Batman had been the one who destroyed him. It may have been an accident, but he had…killed him, in a way. The one thing he had vowed never to do. He had killed Jack Napier.

He was suddenly consumed by guilt, and put down the wedding photo, turning away from the two of them. "Phone's just there, if you wanna use it," said Jack, nodding at the table next to him.

"Thanks," said Batman. He paused. "Um…do you have a phonebook anywhere? My dad will probably still be at the office. I think I remember the number, but I'm still feeling a bit uncertain of things…"

"Sure, Bruce, just here," said Harley, reaching under the table and handing it to him.

"Thanks," he said again.

"We'll give you a little privacy," said Jack, standing up and taking Harley's hand. "We'll be in the kitchen doing the dishes if you need us. Wanna wash or dry this time, baby?"

"I don't mind, puddin', whatever you'd rather do," she said, kissing him.

"Well, I do love it when my Harley girl gets a little wet," he chuckled.

"Oooh, puddin', you naughty boy!" giggled Harley as they left the room, shutting the door behind them.

Batman flicked through the phonebook, stopping under _W. _He found the number of Wayne Industries and dialled it. "Hello, Wayne Industries, you're speaking to Marlene, how can I help?" said a female voice on the other end.

"Hi, I was wondering if Jervis Tetch is available, please," said Batman.

"I'll just check with his secretary. Hold please."

Several minutes later, the voice returned. "Mr. Tetch cannot be disturbed at the present time. Can I take a message?"

"No, thanks, I'll just call back later," said Batman. "Thanks for your help."

He hung up the phone. He now had confirmation that Tetch existed, worked for Wayne Industries, and was working right now. He had to get over there immediately.

He entered the kitchen to see Jack and Harley washing the dishes. It was incredibly odd to see them doing such a mundane task, and Batman's guilt suddenly shot through him again. This could have been their life if he hadn't interfered. A quiet, peaceful, law-abiding life that anyone could be proud of.

"Um…my butler's coming to pick me up – he's meeting me at the movie theater," Batman said.

"Want me to walk you back, so you ain't attacked again?" asked Jack.

"No, I should be fine, thanks," replied Batman. "Um…thanks for all your help, and dinner, and letting me use your phone…"

"No problem, Bruce," said Harley, beaming. "Come back and see us sometime, won't you? Maybe when Red's here? Nice guy like you might be just what she needs."

"Oh yeah…maybe," stammered Batman. "Yeah….I'm sure we'll see each other again, anyway."

"I'll show you out," said Jack, leading him toward the door.

"It was…very nice meeting you, J, really," said Batman. "I wish there was something more I could say or do to make up for…"

"Hey, like Harley said, no problem," said Jack, shrugging. "Every man's duty to help people in need, or so I've always thought. What kinda world would it be if we let people suffer and turned a blind eye to it? Well, I hardly gotta tell a billionaire philanthropist that, do I?" he chuckled. "Granted your millions to charity are probably a lot more effective, but you gotta do good where you can, right?"

"Right," agreed Batman, slowly. "That's what you believe, is it?"

"Well yeah," replied Jack. "Not so unusual, is it?"

"No," said Batman. "No…I guess it isn't." He stared at him. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"What for?" Jack asked, puzzled.

"It doesn't matter," said Batman quickly, shaking his head. "Sorry, J, I'm still a little confused."

"You sure you don't want me to walk with you?"

"No, I'll be fine."

"But you will come back and see us sometime? Or Harley will nag me like crazy."

"Yes," said Batman sincerely, turning away. "Yes, I have no doubt I'll be seeing you again very soon."


	5. Chapter 5

"Jervis? You still working?" asked his secretary, Alice Pleasance, as she entered his laboratory later that night.

"Yes, my dear, why don't you head home? It may be awhile," murmured Tetch, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he manipulated some small wires with a pair of tweezers.

She nodded, then looked around carefully and slowly approached him. "You wanna stop by my place after you're done?" she murmured, sliding her hands up his back as she kissed his cheek.

He immediately dropped what he was doing and whirled around to face her. "Oh, Alice," he breathed, taking her tenderly in his arms as she kissed him passionately. "Alice, we must be careful…"

"I know. Which is why I want you to stop by my place," she whispered, grinning. "We can come to work separately tomorrow, as usual, but I want you to stay with me tonight."

"Yes, of course, my dear, whatever you want," he breathed.

She kissed him. "I want you," she murmured, heading for the door and smiling. "Don't be too late."

She shut the door and he gazed after her for a long time, before shaking his head and trying to focus back on his work. He wasn't successful. He put down the wires and went to the door, reaching for his jacket.

A hand suddenly seized his arm. "Going somewhere, Mr. Tetch?" murmured a voice.

Tetch was stunned. "Mr…Wayne?" he stammered, as Batman stepped into the light. "What…what are you doing here at this hour?"

"Looking for some answers," retorted Batman. "And you're the one man in this world who can give me those."

"Answers?" asked Tetch, puzzled. "I don't understand…"

"Neither do I," interrupted Batman. "But you're going to help me understand, Mr. Tetch. You're going to tell me what you've done to me, to my mind. You're the only one can explain all this, and I'm going to make you do that by any methods necessary."

"Mr. Wayne, I don't…"

Batman seized him by the collar and lifted him off the ground. "I'm not here as Mr. Wayne!" he hissed. "I'm here as Batman!"

"Who?" gasped Tetch.

"Let's just say he's your worst nightmare," muttered Batman. "Now tell me what I want to know! What's happening to me? Where am I?"

He threw Tetch to the ground. He struggled to his feet, stunned. "You're…you're at Wayne Industries, Mr. Wayne…"

"That's not what I mean!" snapped Batman. "This world isn't real! I don't exist in it, at least not the way I do in the real world! I'm Batman, and nobody here has ever even heard of Batman! My parents are alive, the Joker doesn't exist as the Joker…you're going to tell me what you've done to me to create this world, and how to get me out of it!"

"Mr. Wayne, are you sure you're feeling all right?" murmured Tetch, gently. "Because you appear to be talking nonsense."

"Yes, and you just love nonsense, don't you, Tetch?" retorted Batman. "You're the only one who can explain this nonsense, so do it!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" he cried. "Nothing you've said has made the slightest bit of sense to me…"

"Does the Mad Hatter mean anything to you?" growled Batman.

"Um…yes…he's a character in Lewis Carroll's…"

"I don't mean him – I mean the real Mad Hatter!" interrupted Batman, angrily. "You!"

"Mr. Wayne, I don't understand…"

The door opened at that moment and Alice entered. "I'm just leaving, Jervis…Mr. Wayne!" she cried, shocked.

"Alice, just go, my dear," said Tetch hastily, looking anxiously at Batman, as if expecting him to threaten or attack her too.

"But what…"

"Just go!" he exclaimed, shoving her out the door and slamming it shut. He turned to face Batman, who was staring at him steadily.

"You're having an affair with her," he murmured.

Tetch nodded slowly. "Yes…yes, I will never be ashamed to admit that, even if you intend to fire me for it."

"How did you manage that?" murmured Batman. "Even if I didn't exist…"

He paused, smiling. "Ah. Miss Pleasance's fiance didn't just mysteriously and inexplicably dump her one day, did he?"

Tetch stared at him, in a mixture of surprise and guilt. "I don't know what you're…"

"Oh, I think you do," murmured Batman, heading over to his desk and holding up a hat card.

Tetch gaped at him. "How do you know about my research? I haven't told anyone, not even Alice…"

"No, because if you did tell her, she might realize the connection between her fiance's sudden disinterest and your ability to control minds," interrupted Batman. "Unless you're controlling her mind too, of course…"

"No!" cried Tetch. "No, I would never do that to her! To him…yes, yes, I admit I forced him to change his mind about Alice, but I did it for her! It was for her own good! You must understand, it was the only way to save her…"

"For yourself, is that it?" asked Batman, scornfully.

"No, I promise, that was never my intention!" he cried. "It wasn't a selfish act! She would never have been happy with him, not truly happy! He never treated her the way she deserves to be treated! I couldn't let her make the biggest mistake of her life and marry the monster, only to have her heart broken several years down the line! To live out the remainder of her life with regret, in pain and misery, I could never let that happen to my Alice!"

He turned away. "I never thought…she could ever think about me…in that way," he whispered, tears in his eyes. "As a lover. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that the child would…want me. But when she did, when that thing I never dared dream came true, could I have refused her? Could I have had a stone enough heart to do that? No. No, not even if guilt was to eat away at me for the rest of my life. I am many things, Mr. Wayne, but I am not a monster. And I love her…so much. I…"

Batman was silent. "What other things have you been working on, aside from this mind control chip?" he asked.

Tetch turned to look at him, puzzled. "I only told you last week when you toured the premises with your father…"

"Tell me again," snapped Batman.

"Well…my main focus at the moment is an alternate reality simulator," he said, gesturing to the wires.

"Tell me about that."

"Um…it's pretty self-explanatory, really. It creates a different reality in the mind, a reality that seems as valid as the real world to the person experiencing it, but is, in fact, an illusion. I hope to design it so that I can control factors in that reality, for instance, if you remove a person or place from…"

"Remove a person?" repeated Batman. "You could conceivably do that?"

"Well, yes," said Tetch. "It's merely a question of the proper mental suggestion."

Batman stared at him. "What if I was to tell you that I believed you had done this to me? That you had removed me, real me, from reality, and brought me here, where I don't exist."

"But you do exist, Mr. Wayne…"

"No, I don't!" snapped Batman. "Not as I really am! I'm not just Bruce Wayne – I'm also Batman. And he doesn't seem to exist here. Nobody has ever heard of him. The event that prompted his existence hasn't happened, so he hasn't happened."

Tetch was silent. "Tell me about this Batman," he said at last.

"He's…well…he's a superhero."

"A super…hero?" repeated Tetch, puzzled. "Oh, you mean an alien, like the one they have in Metropolis?"

"No, he's just a man. A man who puts on a costume to conceal his identity and fights crime."

"And why would he do that?" asked Tetch, looking even more puzzled.

"Because there are crimes the police can't handle…"

"Oh no, I understand the concept of vigilantism," interrupted Tetch. "But why would he wear a costume?"

"Well, to keep the people close to him safe, so nobody knows who he really is. To protect his identity."

"Yes, but why a bat?"

"To strike fear into the hearts of criminals," retorted Batman. "A creature that stalks the night…"

"You mean like a vampire?" asked Tetch. "Hardly an inspiring image, if you don't mind my saying so, Mr. Wayne."

"It's meant to be more threatening to evil-doers than anything else," retorted Batman. "And it does the job well enough most of the time. The only ones I really have to fight are the supercriminals…"

"And what are they?" asked Tetch.

"They're criminals who put on a costume and fight me…"

"I don't understand this concept of putting on costumes," said Tetch. "There is no precedent for it, not in Gotham anyway. If a man is to be a hero, surely he should be brave enough to be who he is, without the need for concealment? And if a man is to be villain, surely the same should apply?"

"The supervillains are lunatics," retorted Batman. "I don't know why they started…"

"Well, obviously because of this Batman character," retorted Tetch. "If he's the first one to put on a costume, he set the standard for the others. People begin to think that if you're going to be a powerful force in this city, whether for good or ill, you must have a costume, and a persona, I imagine."

"I am not responsible for the likes of the Penguin or the Scarecrow or the Riddler…"

"I don't know who these people are," interrupted Tetch. "If indeed they are people. They sound like characters out of a children's book. No such fantastical characters exist here, because no such fantastical character as Batman exists here. If you want to blame a lunatic for leading the way, I suggest you blame him. Or yourself, Mr. Wayne, if you insist on identifying yourself with him."

"I'm not asking you who you think I should blame," growled Batman. "I'm asking you how to get out of this reality and back to my own."

Tetch shook his head. "I can't help you with that, I'm afraid. My own alternate reality simulator is as yet mostly just theoretical, and I have not designed a failsafe for it. I doubt I ever would. I'm afraid you're stuck here, Mr. Wayne. I would be relieved if I were you. It sounds like this is a far safer Gotham than the one you exist in. Ironic, isn't it, that superheroes only lead to the creation of supervillains? We have no such colorful characters here. Just people. Ordinary people going about ordinary lives. That certainly sounds like a better world to me."

He headed for the door. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go spend the rest of the evening with my girlfriend. It sounds to me, Mr. Wayne, that you're a bit like Alice in Wonderland – you've found yourself in a strange world and an unknown reality. Do what she does, enjoy it, and pray that you eventually wake up. Although for my own sake, as well as yours, I hope you never do. Goodnight."

He left the room and shut the door, leaving Batman alone with his thoughts.


	6. Chapter 6

It had started raining again, but Batman didn't notice as he left Wayne Industries and walked out into the streets of Gotham. He didn't know where he was going, and wandered aimlessly, trying to think of something he could do, some way out of this situation. There was always a way out, he knew that, but he didn't even begin to know where to look for it. He didn't have any ideas this time. His one lead had proved disappointing, and he didn't know where else to turn. Except…

He could always go home. He could see his parents again, alive and real, or at least…real enough to be able to talk to him, to hold him, to tell him they were proud of him. Surely if he told them about Batman, that would be their reaction. Pride for all the good he had done for this city…

But what good had he done for this city? Looking around, Gotham seemed the same as it always was in his own reality. It had the same sense of expectancy that he always sensed on his patrols as Batman, the same sense of something waiting to happen, usually something bad. That hadn't changed. Yes, there was crime in Gotham without him. But there was crime in Gotham with him. Violent crimes on a huge scale, perpetrated because of him. To bait him.

Joker wouldn't even exist without him – he would be a nice man, a family man who truly loved Harley, not the murdering, abusive psychopath he actually was. Batman was responsible for his transformation. Batman hadn't been able to prevent Tetch mind-controlling Alice's fiance, but Alice seemed happy with Tetch now, so maybe that had been for the best. Maybe he shouldn't have interfered. It certainly prevented the creation of the Mad Hatter, without whom he wouldn't even be in this mess. Maybe Batman had to accept that he did do more harm than good. Maybe he should stop trying. Maybe…

"Bruce! Bruce Wayne!" shouted a voice. He looked up as a car pulled up next to him and the window was rolled down to reveal the face, just the one face, of Harvey Dent.

"Bruce, what are you doing out in the rain like this?" asked Harvey. "Where's Alfred?"

"He's at home. I just…felt like walking tonight," said Batman quietly, gazing at Harvey. Another man whose life Batman had ruined, by pushing him to eradicate crime as much as he had. He had led the way with his own obsession, he had pushed Harvey into his obsession of taking down Maroni…

Harvey studied him. "You ok?" he asked. "You shouldn't be wandering the streets like this, you know. This city's not safe, despite my best efforts. You want a lift home?"

Batman sighed. "Yeah, sure," he said.

He climbed into the backseat next to Harvey, who indicated that his chaffeur drive on. Harvey then turned back to look at him again. "Bruce, are you feeling all right? You look terrible."

"I'm just a little…down, Harvey," murmured Batman. "You ever get the feeling that your life has no meaning? That even though you tried your best at everything, you still failed? That maybe the world would be better off without you in it?"

"Oh yeah, all the time!" laughed Harvey. "I guess that's what being a public figure does to you – ironically it makes you feel smaller than usual! You question your every decision, you realize everyone is watching you and judging you, and you feel more insecure than ever, even though a lot more people love you than they ever would as a private citizen! Funny old world, really, isn't it, Bruce?"

"Yeah. But I don't feel much like laughing, Harvey," murmured Batman.

Harvey lay a hand on his shoulder. "Look, Bruce, I know it must be difficult for you, being the heir to a fortune, with no need to accomplish anything. You more than most other people probably feel like your life is a waste. But it isn't, you know. Sometimes life isn't about making big differences, but just little differences to the people who are important to you. The people who care about you. And you do that, Bruce. I really value our friendship. And I bet Selina doesn't think the world would be better off without you in it."

"But what if you realized that your life wasn't just a waste, but actually harmful to other people?" asked Batman quietly. "How would you even begin to accept that, Harvey?"

He shrugged. "I imagine my decisions have brought harm to some people somewhere. But if you spent all your time considering that, you'd never get anything done. You can't blame yourself for every little thing, Bruce. Everyone has harm done to them at some point, by something or someone. The only question is how you're going to respond to it. Do you give up, or do you keep fighting? And you're a fighter, Bruce. Don't stop being one now."

Batman nodded. "I just…" he began, but Harvey's phone rang at that moment. He glanced at the number and his face fell.

"Hang on, Bruce, I just need to take this," he muttered, answering it. "Hello? Yes. Yeah. What, now? Look, I really can't. I've got company. Bruce Wayne, if you must know. What do you mean bring him too? What does he have to do with…yes. Yes, fine. See you soon."

He hung up the phone. "Change of plan, Bruce, we just need to make a slight detour before we drop you off home," he muttered. He looked a mixture of angry and worried.

"Are you all right, Harvey?" asked Batman

"Yeah. Just need to…see some people. And they're fairly…dangerous people. I don't want you to get hurt, Bruce."

"Don't worry, Harvey, I can take care of myself," retorted Batman. "Who are they?"

"Just some…associates of mine. Criminals, actually, but I have to deal with people like that in my professional capacity, you understand."

"Of course," said Bruce, nodding. "You look worried though."

"I don't trust them," retorted Harvey, reaching into his jacket. "They're fairly unpredictable." He withdrew his gun. "Fortunately I travel armed."

The car pulled up at an abandoned warehouse and they got out. "Stay close, Bruce," murmured Harvey. "You're not used to dealing with criminals like I am, especially not these criminals."

"No," agreed Batman. He would have smiled if the situation had been different.

They entered the warehouse. It was pitch black, except for the moonlight that shone through the tall windows. "J!" called Harvey. "J, where the hell are you?"

"J?" repeated Batman, stunned. He was even more stunned when he was suddenly struck a blow to the head that knocked him to the ground. He looked up through blurred vision to see the face of the Joker, and yet not the Joker, smiling at him.

"Guess it's really me you recognize this time, huh, Bruce?" he chuckled.

"Yes," gasped Batman, in a mixture of surprise, and strangely, considering the situation, relief. "Yes, it is."


	7. Chapter 7

Batman regained consciousness to see Harvey Dent, not Two-Face, tied up and kneeling next to him, which confirmed that he was still in the hellish reality of Tetch's making. He realized his own hands were bound and looked up to see Harley finishing tying his ropes, and then go over to Jack, striking a match and lighting his cigarette.

"Thanks, dollface," he said, patting her cheek affectionately. He approached them, puffing on his cigarette. "Must be kinda a shock to you, all this, huh, Bruce?" he asked, grinning at him.

"Less of one than you'd think," retorted Batman. "And I'm getting kinda used to being shocked tonight."

"Really?" laughed Jack. "So you didn't quite buy our perfect fifties couple act? Although it ain't really an act – no reason a guy can't be a criminal genius and enjoy the comforts of a well-managed home, ain't that right, baby?" he asked Harley.

"I always make sure puddin' comes home to a clean house and a nice dinner before he goes out to work," said Harley, kissing him.

"Ain't she just a peach?" he chuckled, beaming at her. "Anyway, living a normal life keeps people from figuring out who I am. That name I gave you, Bruce, Jack Napier, it ain't my real name. I never tell anyone my real name. People only know me as J, and they never see me face-to-face. I mostly do all my business through other people, and I ensure however I have to that nothing I do can be traced back to me. So you should consider yourself lucky, Bruce, getting to deal with me in person. Or not so lucky, depending on how things go," he chuckled. "So, Harvey, let's talk a little business, shall we?" he said, turning to him.

"You don't need to tie me up to do that," growled Harvey.

"I do, because I need to teach you a lesson," said Jack, grinning. He leaned forward and blew smoke into his face. "You've been a bad boy, haven't you, Harvey? You've been leaning on my guys, and I told ya to stop that. This town belongs to me, get it? Everyone in it belongs to me. You belong to me."

"J, if your guys are gonna be careless and slip up, I can't just blindly make exceptions for them," retorted Harvey. "It'll start to look like I'm in your pocket. And if you want me to keep getting re-elected, it's gotta look like I ain't in your pocket."

"You saying this is my fault?" asked Jack, quietly.

"I'm saying if you're gonna keep hiring idiots to work for you, then you gotta live with the consequences of your actions."

Jack was silent, smoking his cigarette. "That a joke, Harvey?" he asked softly.

"No, it's…"

"Think it had better be a joke," interrupted Jack. "Cause if you were seriously criticizing me, you gotta understand that I can't let you live. And it'd be a crying shame to get blood all over your Armani suit. But me, I'm the kinda guy who appreciates a joke, so maybe if you make me laugh about it, I won't kill you."

He withdrew a gun, pointing it at Harvey. "Go on, Harv," he murmured, grinning. "Make me laugh."

To everyone's surprise, Batman suddenly started laughing. They all turned to look at him. "Something funny, Bruce?" asked Jack. "You wanna share it with the class?"

"It's just…it's not my fault!" laughed Batman. "It's strangely nice to know that you're still scum even without my help! I didn't create you at all! You've always been a monster! Oh, it's such a relief!"

He kept laughing, and they all stared at him. "Mr. J, make him stop!" cried Harley, shivering. "He's giving me the creeps!"

"You nuts, Bruce?" asked Jack, approaching him. "That why you were wandering around Crime Alley? You suddenly just lost your mind? I was gonna hold you for ransom when I found you, but I thought it would be funnier to let you go and then come back to us of your own free will, and then I would hold you for ransom. I'm the kinda guy who appreciates a joke, you see, and you walking right into your own kidnapping would be quite the joke."

"Oh, I know you like jokes," said Batman, grinning. "I know everything about you, J. You haven't changed. Still the same Joker, even without the clown persona."

"What the hell are you babbling about?" demanded Jack.

"It's not Batman who created you," retorted Batman. "You ruined your own rotten life. The responsibility for you has always been on you. I didn't have anything to do with it. Well, maybe I gave you the costume idea. But you can look however you want on the surface – it's what inside that counts. And you've always been a monster on the inside. Batman didn't change that. Nothing could."

Jack laughed. "You are crazy, Bruce, you know that? Babbling all this crap about this Batman guy. If he's real, why hasn't he stopped me yet? Where is he, then, this costumed crime fighter?"

Batman suddenly head-butted him, knocking him backward. "He's right here," he muttered, breaking free of the ropes he'd been working at. He punched Jack, sending him flying into the wall, then ducked when he heard a shot. Harley had a gun and was firing at him, but he knocked it from her hands in an instant, seizing her arm. "You're not pregnant yet, are you?" he asked

"No," she retorted.

"Good," he muttered, flipping her over his shoulder and slamming her on the ground, knocking her unconscious. He went over and began untying Harvey, who was gazing at him in astonishment.

"Where…did you learn how to do that?" he gasped.

"I'm full of surprises, Harvey," he retorted. He picked up the ropes and tied Harley, and then approached Jack, who was lying unconscious on his back. As Batman bent over to tie him, Jack's eyes snapped open and he smiled. "Joke's on you!" he cackled, pointing his gun at Batman's head. His finger tightened on the trigger and then…

There was a blinding flash of light, and Batman opened his eyes to see the Joker, the real Joker, shaking him. "C'mon, Batsy, wake up!" he shouted. Batman immediately punched him in the face.

"Aw, he ain't a morning person!" laughed Joker, struggling to his feet and beaming. "But at least he's awake now. How ya feeling, Bats? Any nasty side effects from the reality simulator? I don't mind telling you, I had the runs for about three days after being exposed to that thing…"

"What are you doing, you idiot?!" shrieked Jervis Tetch, who was being restrained by Harley Quinn, as the Joker removed the top hat from Batman's head and stomped on it repeatedly. "I worked months on that…"

"Yeah, you should probably find another hobby, Tetchy," chuckled Joker. "Or maybe a girlfriend. But I won't hold my breath on that one."

"Joker…what are you doing here?" stammered Batman, still shocked.

"Aw, c'mon, Bats, I was expecting you at the old toy factory hours ago!" said Joker. "When you didn't show up, I kinda figured something had happened to you. And there's only one guy I know who goes around making people late for very important dates. Plus he was bragging about this reality simulator a couple weeks ago, and how he was gonna trap you in unreality forever, or some kinda nonsense like that. And I told him, if you didn't break outta it, I would do it for you, because life would be so boring without you. I warned him, I really did, but he didn't listen. But now we've found you and saved you from Tetchy's little trap, and we can have that fight after all! Assuming you're feeling all right. You ok, buddy?"

Batman could have kissed him, if he hadn't suspected that the Joker would enjoy that. But it was an incredible relief to have returned to reality with the knowledge that he didn't carry the responsibility for the Joker's existence. He wasn't responsible for any of them.

Instead of kissing him, Batman punched him again, and then began a full-scale fight against him, Harley, and Tetch. It was over in a matter of minutes.

"I can't believe you!" shrieked Tetch at Joker as Batman dragged them all, handcuffed, into the waiting Batmobile. "This is all your fault! You saved him, and now we're being dragged back to Arkham because of him! I would have ensured he stayed out of all our lives forever!"

"Where would be the fun in that, Tetchy?" chuckled Joker. "Anyway, we'll break out and do this all again soon. It's the routine that makes life interesting! A world without Batman would be a pretty bleak place. Like a joke with no punchline, right, Batsy?"

Batman said nothing – he had an image to preserve. But he smiled to himself as he climbed into the front seat and drove off. For the one and only time in his life, he agreed with the Joker.

**The End**


End file.
